Confundus
by sofia.estrella
Summary: Remus saw him three times, but it seemed to him that they knew each other on a deeper level. Maybe it was because they were both werewolves or maybe it was because of his eerie resemblance to Sirius. Either way, it was an almost magnetic attraction. A three-shot Remus/OC. Slash.
1. Pity

"Hello there."

Although the man had been eying Remus warily as he approached, he still seemed startled by the pleasant greeting.

"Hello," he said slowly.

"I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."

"I don't think I know you."

"Well, that would be why I just introduced myself, wouldn't it?"

A fleeting smile flashed across the man's face. "I'm Stephen. Stephen Edwards."

"Pleased to meet you," Remus said, shaking his hand. He noticed the scars marring the man's fingers, wrist and forearm. Whoever got him didn't seem to have left a part untouched. Stephen shifted self-consciously as Remus's eyes traveled up his arm and to the bled-through bandages on his shoulder and face.

"Feel free to gawk at my scars, really," Stephen said bitingly. "I wouldn't want to bore you."

Remus let the comment hang in the air, dripping sarcasm and bitterness. He could easily remember feeling the same way in his youth—and the hostility toward what he was never really left him, even so many years later.

"I was only wondering—who was it? Who bit you?" he asked politely, as if discussing whether the meals were alright in the hospital, or something equally trivial.

"Does it matter?" Stephen snapped. "They're all the same: monsters."

Remus frowned, not from offense, but in response to the irony of Stephen's statement. "That's rather narrow-minded. Especially now that you are one of these 'monsters.'"

Stephen grimaced, evidently only now realizing what he had said.

"Besides," Remus continued, "I know for a fact that it all boils down to a choice with werewolves. Some _are_ monsters indeed—take Greyback for example. He's the one who bit me."

Stephen, who had been leaning over to get a glass of water, nearly fell off his bed. The glass of water was knocked to the floor and shattered loudly.

"Shit," he muttered, reaching for his wand.

"Allow me," Remus said. "_Reparo_." The shards reformed into a cup, with the water inside of it once more. Remus picked it up and handed it to Stephen, who muttered his thanks and avoided eye-contact. Remus sat there, on the chair next to the hospital bed, waiting out the awkward moment. Finally, Stephen cleared his throat.

"Look," he began, his face flushed with shame. "I'm really sorry. I realize I probably offended you ten times in the last two minutes, but I honestly didn't know and I'm just so angry—"

"Don't worry about it," Remus said dismissively. "I'm used to it. I've been swallowing insults my whole life."

Stephen shook his head in apparent wonder. "It makes me feel loads better to know that there are werewolves like you out there. You're so…"

"Civilized?" Remus offered. "Mild-mannered?"

Stephen chuckled. "Exactly." Then his face became more serious and he leaned forward. "But… I'm really worried about… about the transformation."

"Naturally. That _is_ the most worrying aspect."

"Do they… Does it… hurt?"

Remus smiled sadly. "I don't want to lie to you, and I don't want you to be unprepared, so I'm going to tell you the truth: yes. It's almost unendurable."

Stephen groaned and dropped his face in his hands. "Good to know," he mumbled from behind his fingers.

"But there's good news, too."

He glanced up, his dark eyes hopeful for the first time. The spark in his eyes lit up his sallow, unshaven face. The hint of eagerness seemed to breathe some life into his limp black hair and sickly, mangled features.

"The worst part of transforming," Remus said, "for so many years was losing your mind. That is when you truly turn into the monster. The physical transformation is bearable, but the mental change…" He gave an involuntary shudder.

Stephen, meanwhile, looked utterly horrified. "Wait, _that's_ the good news? I take back what I said about you making me feel better."

"No, no," Remus said, smiling. "Y_ou_ won't have to lose your mind ever if you take Wolfsbane Potion. Ask your Healers about it and they'll tell you how to get some."

"So… you don't go mental when you transform as long as you're on the potion?"

"Pretty much, yes. You stay sane. You're not dangerous."

"But… it still hurts? Transforming?"

Remus sighed. "Maybe you should transform once or twice without the potion so you'll be able to appreciate it more."

"No, that's alright, I appreciate it just fine," Stephen said hurriedly.

The few seconds of silence were comfortable as Remus smiled, amused and intrigued by this frightened and yet quietly optimistic werewolf, who still managed to retain a sense of humor as his world fell apart around him. Remus, bitten at such a young age, had developed as a werewolf—he knew he'd be vastly different if he'd never been infected and liked to think about that sometimes: always the _what if_? But Stephen, probably in his early thirties, had it worse; he knew a normal life and now that was wrenched away from him.

"So," Stephen said, yanking Remus from his private musings. "What brings you to St. Mungo's on Christmas?"

The revelation that it was Christmas hit Remus with a crippling blow; Stephen was alone. Recovering from a werewolf attack. On Christmas.

Remus, turning his mind back to the conversation, nodded across the room, toward Arthur Weasley's bed, which was surrounded by a mob of red-heads. "A friend of mine."

"It would suck to be in the hospital on Christmas," Stephen said, a corner of his mouth tugging up into a half-smile.

"It really would," Remus agreed, playing along.

"It's like, Happy Christmas, you're a werewolf." The humor had given way to irritation as Stephen clutched the sheets in his fists and twisted them.

"Listen," Remus said gently, patting his bandage-free left shoulder. "It's going to be tough for a while, but there's no reason why you can't live a happy life."

"Really? Because right now I'm alone on Christmas."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Stephen dropped his head, shielding his face from view. "Thank you for being here. I mean it—you could've just ignored me, but you didn't and… you really _have_ helped."

"I'm glad I have. I know how it feels and you shouldn't feel alone. Especially not on Christmas."

Stephen smiled as Remus stood up from his bedside. "See you around?"

"Oh, we can do better than that," Remus scoffed. He scribbled his address down on a scrap of paper and handed it to Stephen. "Here's your Christmas present. Owl me whenever you need to talk to someone who understands."

"Will do," Stephen said brightly, pocketing the scrap of paper eagerly.


	2. As hopeless as ever

For a year and a half, the two conversed in regular letters. Stephen's life seemed to be getting easier every day, but Remus's was continuously growing more complicated. With the death of Dumbledore in late spring, he felt so lost—like the world had been turned upside down. And, that same day, Tonks had made their relationship (or lack thereof) public, which he suspected was a ploy to coerce him into making a decision. So, after the funeral, Remus told her that they could continue dating—to which she angrily retorted that "a few shags" did not count as dating. Then he told her to stop shouting because he'd seen heads turning from across the lawn, took her firmly by the shoulders and kissed her.

He wasn't entirely sure why he did it, but it certainly shut her up effectively. Then he told her—cutting her off as she began to squeal about how they had never kissed in public—that he'd take her on a few legitimate dates. He had added, as an afterthought, "Then we can shag… right?"

She had laughed heartily, her short hair shooting through with bright pink as she threw her head back and flung an arm around his waist. "Of course we can. When do we start?" she whispered in his ear.

They had started that afternoon. Their date lasted approximately fifteen minutes until they both got too impatient and Apparated back to Remus's flat.

For a few weeks, it had been enough for Tonks—having a public relationship. But then the nagging had started up again and this time… she wanted to get married.

Needless to say, this caused quite a few sleepless nights for Remus. Finally, she had angrily packed up her things and stormed out, shrieking something about giving him space so he could "fucking decide already."

He was at a loss to say anything to stop her as the door slammed in his face.

And that was how he found himself visiting a small, run-down wizarding pub called Confundus. He trudged over to the bar and was about to sit down, when he heard his name. Confused and embarrassed to have been caught in such a sketchy place, he warily turned toward the voice.

He blinked in surprise when he saw Stephen Edwards sitting alone at a booth. He waved Remus over, who sat down across from him.

"Hey, mate," Stephen said. "Long time, no see."

"Yeah, hey," he muttered, rubbing at his face, and glancing around the bar.

"You just got here and you already seem drunk," he observed. "What's up?"

"Not drunk, just… eh, never mind. What are you doing here, though—alone and all?"

Stephen smiled guiltily. "I frequent this joint… among others."

"Always alone?"

"I always come alone. But leaving, well…"

"Have you been doing alright, Stephen? With… everything?"

He stared at Remus blankly for a moment. "Oh, you mean with being a werewolf! Well, you know, I'm getting by. Kind of. How about you?"

"I've been a werewolf practically my whole life—it's nothing new to me."

"But there must be something new, or else you wouldn't be moping around in a place like this."

"Okay, okay," Remus said, giving up. "There's a girl and we've been… together, sort of, for a while. Now she wants to get married."

"Ah," Stephen said, something in his dark eyes hardening. "And you don't want to marry her."

Even though it hadn't been a question, Remus answered, "No. I didn't even want to date her, really."

"And why not?" He sat up straighter at this latest development, and offered Remus a sip of his drink. He accepted and felt immediately refreshed by the stinging surge of alcohol.

"I don't want to hurt her. I'm dangerous."

"That's a bullshit answer."

"Oh, I thought you of all people would understand."

"But I don't. You say you're 'dangerous.' Are you a murderer?"

"Of course not, but—"

"A criminal? A psychopath? A fugitive wanted by the Ministry?"

"No!"

"And you take the Wolfsbane every full moon?"

"Yes, always, but—"

"You seem pretty safe to me."

"Stephen, you don't understand."

"Don't I? I've been a werewolf for a while now and yet you still act like I'm naïve."

"Look, is there someone in your life? Someone you love and don't want to hurt?"

"There was, yes. But I seem to have the opposite problem as you. Because as soon as I was bitten, he was gone. Didn't want anything to do with me."

Remus was only able to feel sorry for him for a moment, because something else had captured his attention. "Wait," he blurted tactlessly. "'He'? You're…?"

"Gay?" Stephen supplied. "Yes."

"Oh." Remus felt his cheeks burning and really hoped it didn't show. "I… didn't know." He nonchalantly pushed Stephen's drink back across the table, deciding to get his own.

"Look, if it makes you that uncomfortable, you can leave."

"No!" he said quickly. "I just don't like your drink that much."

"Remus Lupin, you are so full of crap," Stephen said teasingly, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms across his chest. He looked incredibly healthier than when he had been in the hospital; the scars had faded so that only a trained eye could find them and there was color in his skin. His face was still in need of a shave, but in a purposefully careless way. His black hair had a luster to it and fell into his eyes in a way that reminded Remus of Sirius. In fact, now that the initial connection had been made, Remus thought that he looked _immensely_ like Sirius.

"Why are you staring at me?" Stephen said with a smirk, suggesting that he knew exactly why Remus had been staring.

"Sorry?"

"You're staring at me with this vague sort of smile on your face… like you're trying to figure me out. All I said is that you're full of crap. I'm not being cryptic or anything."

"Oh," Remus said, blushing again at having been caught. "Just thinking about something, I suppose."

"Thinking about what? Because your eyes weren't unfocused, you were clearly looking _at_ me, not _through_ me."

"What does that mean?"

"Were you thinking about me?"

"No, I…" Remus said much too quickly. "Well, yes, but… you look like someone I knew."

"You 'knew'? As in the past tense?"

"He's been dead for over a year now."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Someone special?" Stephen folded his hands on the table and looked down at them.

"A good friend of mine." Remus sighed heavily. "My best friend, really."

"That's tough, Remus," Stephen said, reaching over to pat his hand.

Remus watched as the patting didn't stop after an acceptable time and Stephen began to lightly trace the outlines of his scars. His stomach gave a nervous flip as he found he couldn't will himself to pull away. Bitterly, he thought that, though she poured physical affection onto them, Tonks didn't really understand his scars and where they came from. She couldn't possibly.

Finally, Remus looked up to Stephen, who raised his eyebrows at him. "So. You don't want to marry this girl because you're dangerous and you don't want to hurt her."

"Stephen—"

"No, no," he said. "I believe you. I just don't think it has anything to do with you being a werewolf."

The words hit him with enough force that Remus was able to pull his hands away and stand up from the booth in one stroke. "I'm… leaving."

"Clearly."

"This didn't mean anything," Remus insisted.

"Of course not," Stephen said dryly.

"I don't want to get your hopes up."

"You needn't worry; I'm as hopeless as ever."

"But I'll see you around?"

"You know where to find me."

Remus stood there long enough to see him throw back the last of his drink and flag down the bartender for another. Then he turned and left Confundus, his head spinning. He was quick to blame it on the alcohol, and tried not to remember that he had only had one sip.

* * *

**A/N: I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing and I'm very out of my element, so some feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading! Also umm sorry for doing whatever I'm doing to Remy and Tonks... but maybe you like it? I kinda like it I don't know.**


	3. Dementor's Kiss

Remus was able to hold out for about six months. He and Tonks did get married, in a small ceremony. They were relatively happy. The war served as a much-needed distraction. The possibility of death seemed to keep the couple pleasant toward one another and—kept them having a lot of sex. So, over all, Remus couldn't object to the situation.

Until one day when Tonks woke him up with what was meant to be happy news. He really should've seen it coming. She announced that she was pregnant with a great big smile on her face, as if it was a wonderful thing.

Although, looking back, Remus could have reacted better.

He shouldn't have blamed her for it, shouldn't have raised his voice, shouldn't have stormed out of his own flat.

Because now he couldn't go back. Or, rather, he _wouldn't_. He was far too proud to go back to her on his knees. So, he had gone to Grimmauld Place in a moment of desperation and asked to accompany Harry, Ron and Hermione on their secretive mission. Hermione, of course, had been clever enough to see right through him. He was eventually worn down enough to admit that Tonks was pregnant. Then he had launched into a rant about his concerns for the unborn child and was told off by Harry and ultimately ruined yet another relationship when he fought back.

And that was how he ended up at Confundus, yet again, praying to Merlin that Stephen would be there, even though he knew that that wouldn't really do him any good. He scanned the pub and was disappointed to find it void of the dark-haired werewolf and then slumped over to the bar and sat down, keeping his distance from the others. But a young woman had sat down next to him and offered him a friendly smile that went unreturned.

She made a small _hmph_ sound and swiveled the stool to face forward.

When the bartender finally paid Remus any attention he said, "What's the strongest thing you've got?"

"That'd be the Dementor's Kiss."

"I'll take six."

The bartender chuckled good-naturedly. "How about we start with one?"

"Fine, fine, make it fast."

The woman had turned to him once more and let out a low whistle. "Someone's had a bad day."

"Like you wouldn't believe," he muttered, shooting her a fleeting glance.

"Want to talk about it?" She leaned toward him, obviously not intending to spend the night talking.

"My wife's pregnant," he said bluntly, reveling in the shocked and scandalized look that came across her face.

Then she recovered. "Is it a bad relationship?"

"No. I'm just worried about the child."

"Why?" she asked gently.

"Because I don't want it to be like me."

"You mean ruggedly handsome?" she teased, running a slender hand through his hair.

"No, I mean a werewolf."

Her hand flew out of his hair so quickly bystanders might have thought his head was on fire. Her mouth was frozen, slightly open, and her eyes were wide as she grabbed her purse and took a few slow steps backward. Then she turned and dashed out of the door.

Satisfied with himself, he turned back to the bar just as his drink was coming. The Dementor's Kiss was dark, silky black, laced with blood-red. It did not look like something that should be consumed. He hurriedly grabbed the glass and gulped down a swallow. It took all his willpower to not cough. His throat and lungs were burning intensely, a hundred times worse than firewhiskey, but then it abruptly gave way to such a soothing, smooth coolness that he immediately took another drink. He was so focused on the beautiful, tranquilizing sensation that he hardly noticed another person come in and sit beside him.

The bartender walked past and Remus thrust his empty glass at him. "Can I have another?" he slurred, blinking his eyes as he vision lapsed into blurriness.

"I don't think so, Remus," said a familiar voice. For a moment, Remus wondered how it was that the bartender knew his name. Then he realized that the bartender hadn't said the words—that his mouth hadn't moved.

He looked to the stool next to him. It was once again occupied, but by a man this time. Stephen raised his eyebrows at Remus.

"You're pretty out of it, aren't you? How many drinks have you had?"

"Only one," he said, holding up a finger.

Stephen let out a burst of laughter. "Honestly? Only one? Come on, I'll take you home."

"I can't go home, Tonks is there and she… she has a werewolf baby. I can't go home."

He appeared to be trying very hard not to laugh. "Okay, I didn't get any of that, but I meant my home, Remus, I don't know where you live."

"But… but I don't know where _you_ live." Remus furrowed his brow in frustration.

"That's why we'll Apparate, dummy."Stephen stood up and led Remus out of the bar. They Apparated just outside the door and the feeling—along with his drunkenness—nearly made Remus throw up.

He was led, less gently this time, inside a small, dingy flat and over to the lumpy couch.

"Okay," Stephen said, pushing Remus down onto it. "Tell me."

"'Bout what?"

"Seriously, Remus, what did you have to drink?"

"A Demented Kiss… or something."

"A Dementor's Kiss? Oh, Merlin… Okay, what's this business about the werewolf baby?"

"Tonks is pregnant."

Stephen's eyebrows knit together. "Who the hell is Tongs?"

"No, _Tonks_. With a K."

"Alright, who the hell is _Tonks_ with a K?"

"She's my wife."

"Wait, wait. You're not married, are you, Remus?"

"I am, and now she's pregnant, and I—"

"This is the girl who you didn't want to hurt because you're dangerous?"

"Er, yeah. That one."

"And now she's pregnant. And you went to Confundus. And you got unbelievably pissed."

Remus nodded slowly, as if he was being asked a trick question.

"Well," Stephen said, scratching the back of his head. "Why?"

"Why is she pregnant?"

"No, no, I think I can figure that out for myself, thank you very much. Why are you drinking yourself half to death?"

Remus seemed to think about it for a moment and then shrugged. "Guess I don't want the baby to be a werewolf."

"It probably won't be, you know. I don't think it's hereditary." Stephen went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water. "Drink this. Please."

Remus obliged and he instantly felt the spinning in his head slowing down. He gulped down a couple glasses and, about half an hour later, felt sober enough to be embarrassed. Dreadfully embarrassed.

"I'm really sorry," he said again.

Stephen shook his head adamantly. "Stop apologizing, Remus. It's really starting to piss me off."

"Oh. Sorry." Remus snapped his mouth shut upon realizing what he had said. Stephen only laughed. "But, I was wondering…" Remus began, "why were you in Confundus?"

"I was saving your arse."

"Well, you couldn't have known I was in there. Why did you come in?"

Stephen frowned. "Drink more water."

Remus took another sip. "I'm only going to get soberer. Why were you going there?"

"It's a nice place, isn't it?" he joked, but there was a nervous undertone to his laughter. "Alright, alright. The real reason is… I sort of go in there every night. I usually pop in for a moment, just to check."

"Check on what?"

"Really, Remus, how thick are you?"

"A lot thicker when I'm drunk, so you'll have to spell it out for me."

After a long pause, Stephen admitted, "I'm looking for you."

"Oh." Remus took a long drink of water. "Well… why?"

"You're important to me. You helped me through a really bad time. If you hadn't been there in the hospital, I don't think I would've pulled through. And all those letters… they really helped. More than you can know. I just want to return the favor, because you're evidently having a tough time now."

Remus smiled. "It's the least I can do, really. One werewolf to another, you know?"

"Speaking of," Stephen said quietly, "the full moon is tomorrow night. I have some Wolfsbane, why don't you just stay until then? It'd be nice to have some company."

Remus wondered about Stephen's motives for the invitation for a moment, before he let it go. "Sure. I'll stay."

"You know…" Stephen said slowly. "There are a lot of seedy bars. And there are a sufficient number of seedy wizard bars - I should know. Why did you end up in Confundus?"

Remus shrugged, getting nervous. "It's familiar, I guess."

"You've been there, what, once?"

"Well… yeah."

"So not too familiar then."

Remus groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "What are you getting at?"

"Were you looking for me? Did you want to see me tonight?"

Remus looked over at him, at the dark hair falling into his eyes and at the careless stubble. He really did look so much like Sirius. In fact the line was starting to blur dangerously. Maybe that's why he told the truth. "Yeah. Yeah I really wanted to see you tonight. I don't know why, but… I needed to see you."

"I think I know why."

"Hm?"

Stephen leaned over, very slowly, giving Remus enough time to wonder why he was getting closer. When he realized what was about to happen, he gulped but didn't pull away. Their lips met, softly at first. Stephen set the pace, and it steadily increased until teeth were nipping and hands were groping. Then clothes were coming off, ripping and tearing in the rush to expose some skin. Remus saw the smatterings of scars on both their bare chests and it was like they fit together. That was the last coherent thought he had before he was forced into submission, on his hands and knees on the couch.

It was rough and incredibly painful, but if Remus was used to anything he was used to pain. He almost enjoyed the pain of it and was a little disappointed when it faded into pure pleasure.

Afterward, Remus prodded the quickly-forming bruises on his thighs and hips. He raised a hand to touch the tender spot on his neck were Stephen had bit him.

"I'm going to be all marked up," he muttered, the first thing either of them had said for quite a while.

"You're already all marked up. They'll blend in," Stephen said, deadpan. "The wife won't notice."

Remus's stomach dropped. _Fuck_. He stood up and began dressing, trying to look like he wasn't in too desperate a hurry.

Stephen watched him. "I don't think I'm going to see you again."

Remus, finished dressing, looked at him. "No. I don't think so either."

"Alright," he said, lying down on the couch and pulling a blanket over him. His eyes shut.

So that was that.

Remus checked around for the rest of his things and let himself out. It was well past three in the morning. He Disapparated, not quite sure where he was Apparating to.

* * *

**A/N: I feel like that got really dark really quickly. I have to apologize for making Remus a jerk. Don't get me wrong, Remus Lupin is my favorite fictional character ever, so I'm not sure where this came from. But hopefully you found it enjoyable or at least interesting. I did enjoy writing it just because it's so different from what I usually do. Please tell me what you thought of it!**

**(And this is definitely the end by the way, so if you're subbing it you can... stop.) **


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